The Emperor's Will
by Encalamah
Summary: Brother Sergarus is a space marine in the Swords of Vulkan chapter, based on the agri world of Talpholon Prime. His days are filled with uneventful patrols and domestic interaction. Yet when a voice begins to speak to him in his mind, it could prove to change the fate of his whole chapter, and perhaps the Imperium itself.


The Imperium of Man. The largest and most powerful empire known to human history, perhaps to all of galactic history. It's domain stretching to every corner of the galaxy, it's rule governing a thousand thousand worlds, it's population beyond count. From the mighty homeworld of Holy Terra, the High Lords rule with boundless power, but beneath their palace, deep in ancient vaults, upon the Golden Throne sits humanity's true ruler, the God-Emperor. Placed in his dying breaths upon the life sustaining seat, he sits now unmoving, his unrivaled psychic might keeping his precious Imperium from collapse. And he watches. To every world he stretches his mind, seeking, ever vigilant of the vile enemies that surround his domain, ever clinging to the hope that he may in some small way reach out to the physical realm, to once again guide his people on the path he had set them on so many millennia ago. For he knows that there is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.

Far to the galactic south, in the depths of Segmentum Tempestus, lies the planet of Talpholon Prime. A jewel of the Imperium by all accounts. A rich and prosperous agri world, bustling with activity and growth. Here the Emperor was watching closely, for he felt that something stirred, something evil that simply waited for its moment.

Not only was Talpholon Prime an extremely productive agri world, it was also the homeworld for a chapter of the Adeptus Astartes, the Swords of Vulkan. The space marines had made this planet into what it was today, and they took great pride in their accomplishment, and meant to keep it as it was. Every hive and homestead on the planet had its posted contingent of space marines from the chapter. They maintained order and efficiency, and as most of the people adored the Astartes for providing such fortune to their planet, their presence was always welcomed.

One such space marine was Brother Sergarus. Today, as on every day, he began his daily patrol of his posted territory. His was a small post, compared to many others, a farming homestead that worked only about fifty square kilometers of land. Therefore Sergarus was the only Astartes posted here. To maintain such a widespread force so easily, the chapter expected each battle brothers to act with a certain degree of autonomy. They were expected to follow the proper protocol expected of any Astartes, but were allowed a certain degree of freedom. They could request transfer or return to the chapter monastery whenever they wished, but while on post, each brother was essentially the sanctioned lawman in their territory. They were given jurisdiction to dispense judgement and punishment as they deemed necessary, and aid locals in any way they saw fit. This was an incredible amount of trust and responsibility that the chapter gave, and the most remote posts were only given to those who had proven their loyalty and abilities to the chapter. Brother Sergarus had done so.

The dirt of the path crunched under the massive weight of his armor, as Sergarus made his way along the homestead's only road. Beyond the plain wooden fence on the road's edge, Sergarus could see the farm hands and machinery moving out into the fields to begin the day's work. He approached the house in his usual calm and lumbering pace, it was always his first stop for the day. He entered through the open front door, the wooden entrance creaking under his weight. As soon as he entered he was immediately greeted by three young children running out from the kitchen.

"Sergarus!" They all shouted at once as they ran to him excitedly, looking up at him with awe.

"Hello children," he smiled and knelt down to face them, "how are you doing today?"

"Good," they all answered in unison.

"Look Sergarus!" Athonus, the boy, pointed to the doorframe, where several notches had been made in the wood, "I've grown again!" He shouted excitedly, pressing his back to the doorframe and placing his hand above his head to show where the new notch was placed. "When can I become an Astartes like you?"

"Not just yet," Sergarus laughed, "perhaps when you're a bit older. Besides, you must watch over your sisters, while your father is away."

"Come on children, that's enough, come finish your breakfasts," a feminine voice called from the kitchen.

He followed after the children into the kitchen, where they had hearty meals laid out for them each. The woman at the counter turned and gave a beaming smile to Sergarus, as she did every morning. She could have been beautiful, Sergarus did not know very much about such things, but he assumed if she had been married so young she must have been seen as desirable.

"Good morning Sergarus," she said happily.

"Good morning Mistress Galia," he answered politely. She gave a giggle of embarrassment and turned away as her cheeks flushed.

"I've told you time and again Sergarus, you may simply call me Galia."

"I cannot do that, you are the Mistress of the household, and as lawman and guest I am expected to show proper respect." Every battle brother was held to a code of honor, discipline, and mutual respect, and in the regulatory roles that members of the chapter played on Talpholon Prime, these tenets were paramount.

"Then am I supposed to address you as _Brother_ Sergarus?" She asked jokingly.

"You may do so if that is your wish," he answered seriously.

She turned back to him and gave him a look of exasperation and amusement. She looked to see a crack in his facade, but after several moments of staring she gave out a loud sigh of resignation.

"Astartes, always so disciplined, very well, Mistress Galia it is," she smiled and walked over to him, handing him an earthenware mug of steaming tea, as well as a loaf of warm bread wrapped in a cloth. He put the bread inside one of his belt pouches and began to sip the tea slowly. This was the ritual that Sergarus had every morning. He enjoyed the hospitality, and the fresh loaf was welcomed over his standard rations gladly. As he enjoyed the fragrance and earthy taste of the tea in silence, Galia spoke.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like something heartier to take with you?"

"I assure Mistress, the bread is more than sufficient more my body to metabolize the nutrients that I need, along with my standard supplemental rations."

"Oh alright," she said fussily, "have it your way then if you wish to miss out on freshly cooked meat."

"I shall," he cracked a small smile, "but as always I thank you, for everything."

"It's the least I can do for the man who keeps our farm safe and in order," she said bluntly. A look of worry seemed to creep over her face. After several more moments of silence she asked a question.

"Do you know how goes the battle with the Orks away south?"

"It goes well I hear," he answered, drinking his tea calmly, "no doubt we shall have the greenskins routed ere long."

The worry did not seem to leave her face even after his assessment.

"I'm sure he will be fine," he said reassuringly, handing the empty mug back to her. A half-hearted smile crossed her face as she took the cup. "Good day Mistress."

Without another word Sergarus turned and made his way outside. He took his helmet from the clasp at his side and slid it onto his head. With a hiss and a pop it snapped into place, sealing him from the world without. When dealing with normal citizens Sergarus generally liked to keep his helmet off. A towering Astartes in full plate was an intimidating sight, showing that he had the face of a man made him more approachable. Hefting his bolter from off his back, Sergarus began his daily patrol of the homestead.

Even for an Astartes this much land took some time to cover completely. He only managed to fit a single patrol into each day, covering every part of the farm. As he stumped through the fields and irrigation ditches, he passed farmhands and servitors working the land. Each gave him a courteous bow as he passed. He paid little heed to them, going about his business as he did every day. At about midday he sat down on a large boulder, as he did each day, and removed the bread from his belt pouch. Wrapped in the cloth, it was still slightly warm from the morning, he ate it thoughtfully as he surveyed his territory from the raised hillock where he sat. After the bread he ate a piece of an Astartes ration cake to give him any vital nutrients the bread could not provide, as well as some water. His body, like all his brothers', was incredibly efficient at metabolizing food, and could work at peak efficiency on very little sustenance.

With his midday meal finished, Sergarus descended from his perch to finish the second half of his patrol route. It turned out to be as uneventful as the first half. Nonetheless Sergarus had to remain vigilant. Centuries ago, when the chapter first arrived on the planet, they found the local populace struggling on a world infested with Orks. Needless to say the Astartes quickly set to work exterminating the abominations, but they were ever watchful for any resurgence of greenskins. The tenacious Orks seemed to be impossible to stamp out, seemingly being destroyed before springing up again years later, as if from nowhere. Even now the planets Imperial Guard regiments and a contingency of the Swords of Vulkan chapter were fighting a particularly problematic tribe of Orks that had arisen in the planet's temperate southern regions.

With his daily patrol complete, and the sun beginning to dip on the horizon, Sergarus made his way back to the homestead. It was insisted by Mistress Galia that he come for supper every day, being convinced that her loaf of bread was not enough for the hulking Astartes to live on. Sergarus kindly obliged every time it was offered out of respect, though the food was never bad tasting either. As he made his way down the dirt path, Sergarus noticed that Galia was standing out on the porch, looking out over the fields, with a look of concern on her face. His footsteps thumping down the road seemed to break her out of her trance as he approached.

"Oh, Sergarus, you haven't seen Malva out in the fields today have you?" she asked, her voice thick with worry.

"I'm afraid I haven't Mistress," he answered, "Is something the matter?"

"It is most likely nothing…" she said quietly, "she left this morning as usual to go and play, but I haven't seen her since, it isn't like the children to be late for supper."

"I will go out and have a look," he said, "do you have any idea where I can start?"

"She always likes playing out in the rock fields, at the eastern edge of the farm, in fact she started off that way this morning."

"Very well, I shall be back when I find her," he said confidently and lumbered off.

At a brisk pace Sergarus reached the rockfields within a half-hour and began his search. Igniting the headlamp mounted on his helmet he picked through the boulders carefully in the evening gloom. After several minutes of searching he could find no sign of the girl. The rockfields were not large, and he had just decided to move on with his search when something in the distance caught his ear. To a normal man it would have been inaudible, but with his increased hearing he could make out the word 'help' echoing vaguely. Moving in the direction of the sound he made his way to the edge of a ridge. The rockfields ended, and the ground fell roughly two meters into what seemed to have been an old riverbed, most likely the water had been redirected for the farms some time ago.

"Malva?" Sergarus called out into the empty riverbed, scanning across the dusty earth with his spotlamp.

"Help!" he heard much more distinctly now. He recognized it immediately as the voice of the child.

Sergarus quickly slid down the ridge and began to search the river bed. Eventually he came upon the entrance to a small and inconspicuous cave, hidden behind some boulders and old, dry, reeds. Though the entrance was a squeeze he managed to climb inside, careful not to collapse the entrance. Once inside he found he could stand comfortably to his full height. Shining his lamp across the walls he saw that the cave was carved in clean and crisp edges. It must have once been some sort of dwelling for the planet's inhabitants before the Swords of Vulkan arrived. It certainly was not Ork made, it was far too sturdily built. Making his way farther into the cave Sergarus heard the echo of the child sobbing. Before long he came upon a large chamber, filled with a strange light that seemed to emanate from nowhere in particular. The floor had collapsed downward, leaving Sergarus standing about two meters above the bottom of the chamber, with a sheer drop down. In the center of the room below he saw Malva standing with her back to him. He quickly dropped to the lower chamber and approached her. She turned as he got close and looked up into his headlamp. Tears streamed down her, and her eyes seemed glazed and hollow.

"Pacheron is here," she mumbled quietly.

"What do you mean Malva?" Sergarus asked as he knelt down, extending his left hand to her. She reached out and put her hand on his gently. The hollow look seemed to melt away and she began to cry again, running in and pressing herself against his torso. He lightly placed a hand on her shoulder and let the child shed her tears.

"You are safe now child," he said reassuringly, "now come along, your mother is very worried."

Sergarus picked up the girl lightly in one arm and climbed out of the chamber with one bound. Slowly making his way back out of the musty cavern, he made sure not to lose himself in the twisting and turning corridors. Once they had come back out into the refreshing evening air, he took one of his grenades from his belt and sealed the entrance to the cave for good measure. With the girl contentedly resting in the crook of his arm he began the trek back to the house. Galia was still standing on the porch when he arrived. She embraced her daughter immediately and brought her in to have supper.

"Thank you Sergarus," she said appreciatively once they were all settled in the kitchen, "that was incredibly kind of you."

"I was simply doing my duty Mistress," he answered as he took a bite of some roasted meat," no thanks is necessary, I am to maintain order and safety on this land."

"Well I thank you nonetheless," she said with a smile.

After supper Sergarus thanked Galia for the meal as always, and bid her and the children a good night. Making his way to the corner of the territory he came to his own dwelling. It was little more than a small bunker, but outside of the chapter's Fortress Monastery, it was Sergarus' home. The building was a squat concrete cube, with a small vox caster antenna on the top. The inside was as simple as the outside. There was a small raised platform to be used for sleep, a small table with a dataslate containing the Codex Astartes, as well as some various baubles that Sergarus had received from the children, some tools and other equipment for maintaining his power armor and weapons, and a container which held ammunition and rations.

Every Astartes could go days with virtually no sleep, but sleep was taken when it was possible, in case the need arose in the near future to go without it. This night however Sergarus found it difficult to sleep, he was slightly restless. He finally began to doze while seated on his sleeping platform, back to the wall, when he was jolted awake.

"Sergarus," a smooth and pleasant voice spoke.

His eyes shot open, but he saw no one.

"Hello?" he called in the otherwise unoccupied room, eying every corner suspiciously.

"Greetings my son," he heard the voice again.

"Who are you?" he asked angrily, "Show yourself!"

"Calm yourself Sergarus," the voice said soothingly, "I cannot show myself, for I am very far away, I can only speak to you within your own mind."

"Who are you then?" he demanded.

"I am the Emperor," the voice said confidently.

"The Emperor?" Sergarus asked, his eyes wide with surprise, he was struck dumb by the sudden realization that the God-Emperor himself was speaking to him. Caution and training told him to be careful however, and the awe was quickly replaced with suspicion. "How can I know you are truly the Emperor? I hear tell that daemons may speak in men's minds as well."

"Ah, you are wise to be cautious," the voice laughed, a laugh filled with mirth, a sound that seemed to lighten the room itself, "Very well my son, I shall try to prove to you. As my mind watches over the galaxy, I see many things, I watch over all my people. This very night I may aid some of them in particular, with your aid, and so perhaps I may show you that my intentions are pure."

"What is it you would have me do?" Sergarus asked slowly.

"Return to the homestead, I'm afraid vile things may be happening there, I sense the taint of evil, of _Chaos_ , you must hurry."

The word Chaos set Sergarus' senses on edge, and the hairs rose on his neck. It was all he needed to hear to quickly begin making his way to the house. He crossed the distance faster than usual. Lights inside streamed out through the wide open doorway. His increased hearing picked up the sound of a shriek, then the sound of speech within.

"Stop that! My father is in the Guard, he will stop you!" he heard Athonus shout.

"Oh really?" he heard an unfamiliar voice answer, "Where is your father then? Gone! He cannot help you, now shut your mouth brat!"

Without delay Sergarus thumped inside the house, bolter at the ready. In the kitchen he came upon the altercation. Galia cowered in a corner, her dress torn, bare breast hanging out. Before her stood a tall and thin man, brandishing a knife. His comrade, and most likely the one who had spoken to Athonus, was shorter but thickly built, he had no weapon, but scowled down at the children, all huddled together in another corner in terror. He recognized both men as farmhands that worked for the homestead. As soon as Sergarus and entered the room both men turned, and shared looks of terror and astonishment crossed their faces. The shorter one immediately fell to his knees, while the other looked on with hatred and defeat smoldering in his eyes.

"Please, spare us my lord, we beg for mercy!" the man on the floor begged.

"Kill them," the Emperor's voice said in his mind.

Without hesitation Sergarus picked both men up by their throats, one in each massive hand, and began to carry them out of the house.

"Come then, I will show you the Emperor's mercy," Sergarus said flatly.

"Unhand me!" the taller man screamed, and thrust his knife into the Astartes' hand. The look of surprise on his face only grew when Sergarus seemed to have no reaction to the blade driven deep into his gauntlet. He carried both men over to a nearby earth pile, it had some tools laying thrown nearby.

"Dig, two holes, two meters long and one wide," Sergarus ordered as he threw them to the ground. Their hesitance was quickly dissipated as he raised his bolter. The men worked quickly, they were used to this sort of manual labor. Through the whole of the work the shorter man sobbed and babbled, realizing the folly he had committed, the other simply glared at Sergarus. Soon the work was done.

"Now stand before the holes," he ordered, both men grudgingly complied.

"W- what are you going to do?" the shorter man asked shakily, still refusing to put together the pieces.

"Deal my judgement," Sergarus said matter-of-factly, as he put a bolter round into the man's chest, bursting his organs out through his back as he toppled into the grave he had just dug.

"You are a heartless beast!" the taller man spat, seeming to not realize the hypocrisy of his statement considering what he had just been attempting.

"Indeed," Sergarus retorted, "I am the Salamander, bringer of fire, and you," an iciness filled his voice, "you are a rat." The bolter coughed once and the round impacted into the man's face, spraying blood and pieces of skull and brain matter out onto the crops, as the now headless body thumped into the second hole.

"Thank you" he heard a voice say weakly behind him. He turned to see Galia standing nearby, holding her torn dress up to preserve her decency, staring blankly into the holes.

"I'm afraid you will be needing some new farmhands," Sergarus said calmly.

"Good riddance," she whispered, and spit into the graves. She looked up at him, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. She ran to him and buried herself as best as she could in his arms with his bulky armor. "Thank you" he heard her say again softly as she sobbed quietly. At first the act surprised him, and Sergarus was unsure of how to respond. After a few moments he simply decided to wrap an arm around her and stand in silence, not knowing what to say. Eventually Galia reclaimed her composure, and wiping the tears away she stepped back from him, when her face was suddenly overcome with shock.

"By the Emperor Sergarus! Your hand!" she cried, as she pointed to his left hand. He now realized that the tall farmhand's knife was still embedded in his gauntlet, the broken blade lodged deep into the armor. He removed it and tossed it harmlessly into one of the holes.

"I am fine mistress," he said with no alarm. He removed a part of his gauntlet to reveal that beneath there was no flesh. Galia looked at him in awe, seeming to search for an answer. "I lost the hand to a greenskin years ago."

"That must have been awful," she said in shock.

"It was not so bad, I took his head in return," he said with a small smile.

"Well, you are full of surprises this evening it seems," she said with a slight smile as well, "how did you know that we were in danger?"

Sergarus was unsure of how to answer. He had arrived just in time it seemed, any longer and Galia would have been violated, and most likely killed. Yet it was not his actions alone that had saved her and the children.

"It was the will of the Emperor," he answered confidently.

 **A/N: Hello readers! I don't know how many of my usual fans are very informed on the Warhammer 40k universe, but I personally am a huge fan, so here's a story about it. This isn't the only chapter, the story will continue, and get a lot more interesting, sorry if this one was a bit uneventful, but it was important exposition stuff. As with everything in the grim darkness of the far future, this will get a lot darker, I assure you! Anyway, subscribe to my tumblr (Encalamah) or my new twitter page! ( TheEncalamah) both will have updates on new chapters and stories, and will have snippets of upcoming chapters so that subscribers get a little early access to my writing :) As always thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!**


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